Word quickly spread the next day about how Harry and Ron had rescued Hermione Granger from the troll.

They suddenly found themselves—well, Ron did, anyway—in the spotlight.

By now, Harry had grown used to his schoolmates’ looks, whispers, and awed silences.

Ron, however, loved it. He practically glowed with pride when ever someone said, ‘Hey, Weasley, nice job with that troll!"

Being the youngest of six brothers, it was very rare that he got any recognition for his accomplishments—though his mum and dad did make an effort to treat all their kids equally.

It was just when one brother was a dragon-tamer, one was a Cursebreaker, and the other was a school prefect with excellent marks there didn’t seem to be enough ‘pride’ to go around.

Even the twins, though their accomplishments were more notorious, got more attention usually than he did.

Then there was Ginny, his little sister, who was the first Weasley girl born in seven generations.

Even she managed to outshine him, it seemed.

But now, for once, he was in the spotlight and it made him feel good—that and the fact he knew they’d done a good thing by helping a friend.

"I can’t believe you complain about this, mate," Ron told Harry after about their third class of the day. "It’s bloody wicked!"

Harry smiled. "Wait a week or two," he told him, smirking, "then let’s talk. I rather liked being famous too, at first, but then it just got out of hand. Everybody keeps watching me to see when I’m going to do something bloody fantastic!"

"Taking down a full grown mountain troll is pretty fantastic, Harry," Hermione told him, smiling. "So is rescuing a friend…"

Harry blushed at that. "I know," he told her, "but it’s like they think I’m some kind of superhero or something…and I’m not. I’m just…me."

"Well, you are the one who took out the Darkest wizard in history," Ron reminded him, grinning.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, when I was a baby!" he told him, giving him a playful shove. "It’s isn’t like I actually remember doing it. Bloody hell, I didn’t do anything—except pee my nappy!"

Ron snickered at this. "Wicked," he told him, smirking. "Gross, but wicked!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Boys," she muttered, sighing.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then shrugged. Girls! Who could figure them out?

As they turned the corner, they found themselves nearly running into Professor Snape.

"Enjoying yourselves, are we?" he asked them, sneeringly. "Basking in all the glory and whatnot?"

"Uh," Harry said, swallowing. Why did the man have to have such an imposing stare? "Not really…Sir."

Snape snorted. "Impressive though your little adventure last  night was," he told them, sternly, "it was still reckless and irresponsible! If you were in my House—at the very least you’d be serving a week long detention right now!"

With that, the tall man brushed past them—his black robes again billowing out behind him like bat’s wings.

Ron snorted and gave his retreating back a rude gesture, causing Harry to snicker and Hermione to gasp.

"Mean ole bat," the red head growled, sourly. "What would he know? How can saving somebody’s life be ‘reckless and irresponsible’?"

"Well, you must admit," Hermione said, matter-of-factly, "that you didn’t really have it all planned out when you came to my rescue."

"There wasn’t any time!" Ron argued, grumpily. "What did you want us to do? Let the troll rip off your arms while we ‘planned’ how to make it stop?"

"We still should probably have gotten a teacher, Ron," Harry told him, quietly. "I mean, I know there wasn’t much time…but I think that’s what’s got Snape in a snit. To him, we’re just kids and should have let an adult handle it."

"We are kids," Hermione reminded him, smiling.

"Yeah," Ron said, puffing himself up, "but we’re kids who took out a full grown mountain troll all on our own."

"Big, flippin’ deal!" a snide voice sneered and they turned around to find Draco Malfoy and his two goons standing there.

Harry sighed.

He was so hoping they wouldn’t run into the arrogant brat—especially since they didn’t have any classes with the Slytherins today.

"You think taking down a creature that’s even dumber than you, Weasley, is actually impressive!" Malfoy sneered. "As if!"

Ron’s face turned red with anger.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he growled at the blonde haired boy. "Nobody asked you!"

Malfoy smiled, knowing he’d hit a button.

"What?" he taunted. "Not enough attention at home? Mummy and Daddy too busy with all those kids of theirs and no money to feed them that they don’t have time for poor little Ronny!"

Ron would have gone for the other boy, had Harry and Hermione not stopped him.

"He’s just baiting you, Ron," Hermione told him, scowling at Malfoy coldly. "He isn’t worth getting a detention over…or losing the points you got for us."

"She’s right, mate," Harry said. "Let’s just go…"

"Ooh," Malfoy smirked at Crabbe and Goyle. "Looks like perfect Potter isn’t so perfect after all! He needs a girl to fight his battles for him!"

Harry glared at the brat. "Shove it, Malfoy," he growled, with clenched fists.

Malfoy snorted, but then smirked wickedly.

"’Course, that’s how it’s always been, isn’t Potter?" the Slytherin, sneered. "Mummy had to protect you from the big bad wizard too, didn’t she?"

That did it. Screw it, Harry thought angrily. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy.

"Shut your stinkin’ hole, Malfoy," he growled, "before I hex you into next week!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione gasped, glancing around quickly to see if any teachers were about.

"I’m not dumb enough to fight you here, Potter," Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes.

Harry lowered his wand. "Name the time and place, then, and we’ll settle this once and for all," he told him, fiercely.

Malfoy eyes lit up at that. "Tonight, at midnight," he told him. "The Forbidden Forest!"

Hermione turned pale as a ghost, and so did Crabbe and Goyle, who couldn’t believe they were even thinking about dueling each other.

Harry, however, refused to be cowed.

"Meet me at the entrance, then," he told him. "If you don’t show up—we’ll know who the real coward is."

"You tell him, mate," Ron smiled, proudly.

Malfoy’s nostrils flared and his face turned as red as Ron’s.

"No one calls a Malfoy a coward, Potter," he told Harry. "I’ll be there, and we’ll just see who the better wizard is."

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he told him, "we will. C’mon, guys."

With that, he shoved past the three Slytherins and headed down the corridor.

"Harry, you can’t do this!" Hermione told him, frantically. "You’ll be expelled for sure—dueling and being in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Ah, Hermione," Ron said, sighing. "You just don’t understand anything!"

"I understand there are things worth fighting for," Hermione told him, flatly. "And this isn’t one of them."

"He insulted my mother, Hermione," Harry told her, flatly. "I’m doing it. End of story."

Hermione swallowed, hard, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Have it your own way, then," she told him. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you…"

She then turned and ran down the corridor.

"Girls!" Ron snorted, shaking his head. "They don’t understand us blokes at all, do they?"

Harry nodded, knowing he’d hurt Hermione’s feelings but he wouldn’t back out of this.

Tonight at midnight, Malfoy, he thought to himself savagely. You’re going down!

The rest of the day he was on edge, and found it very hard to concentrate in the remainder of his classes.

At supper that night, he barely ate anything. He refused to glance up at the staff table, knowing full well Snape was eyeing him as usual, and was afraid the dark clad man would know something was afoot.

Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Malfoy not to rat him out just to see him get into trouble—except that he’d known he’d hit the blonde haired Slytherin right where it hurt the most: his overly large pride.

He’d show up, he was sure of it. I just hope I can beat him, he couldn’t help but worry. After all, Malfoy had been learning spells and hexes his whole life while he had only been learning for a little over two months.

Most of the spells he knew were defensive in nature, and those he’d learned from reading his DADA—since Quirell was such a waist as a teacher.

Hermione, pointedly, sat on the other side of Neville—ignoring both him and Ron.

That was fine by Harry, who couldn’t quite bring himself to look the mousy haired witch in the eye, anyway.

Ron, however, didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

"You’re gonna make that prat eat his words, ‘Arry," he told him, confidently, as they prepared for bed later that night.

Well, Ron got ready for bed—he merely put his pajamas on over some blue jeans and a t-shirt.

He, Ron, Neville, and their other dorm-mates then spent a delightful hour before it was time to go to bed having a pillow fight.

Ron had started it—by throwing his pillow at Harry first—more than likely to help calm his friend’s nerves.

"You’ll do okay," the red head assured him as the bell sounded for lights out. "Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?"

Harry nodded.

"If Malfoy flakes and I get caught out of bed," he told him, "then it’ll just be me in for it—no since us both getting expelled, right?"

"Give him a hex for me, okay?" Ron smirked, patting him on the back.

Harry nodded, then crawled into bed as the light’s were turned off and everyone began to fall asleep.

He waited until he certain all the other boys were asleep and then he crawled out of bed and shucked off his pajamas.

Quickly pulling on his old ratty trainers (hand-me-downs from his cousin Dudley naturally) he grabbed his wand and out of his dorm.

As he was making his way down to the common room, however, a hand reached out and grabbed him.

It was Hermione. "Please, Harry, be careful," she told him, gently. "You and Ron are the first real friends I’ve ever had…"

Harry smiled. "You guys are mine, too," he told her, quietly. "I’ll be careful. I promise."

She nodded, but then thrust a piece of paper at him. "I know you don’t many hexes," she told him. "I wrote these down—maybe they’ll help."

Harry unfolded the parchment and smiled.

It read: Spells to Help Harry: 1. Disarming Hex—Expelliarmus 2. Water Charm—Aguamenti 3. Leg-Locker Curse—Locomotor Mortis

"Thanks, Hermione," he told her, appreciatively. "These’ll help for sure."

"Just remember, Harry," Hermione told him. "It’s very important to use your opponents weakness against him, if at all possible. Malfoy is proud and easily angered—make him lose focus and he won’t be able to deflect any of your spells and return fire. I’d recommend using the ‘water charm’ first, followed by the ‘disarming hex’, and finishing him with the ‘leg-locker curse’."

Harry beamed at her. "Brilliant!" he told her. "B-But I thought you didn’t—"

"I don’t," Hermione told him, "and I still think you’re making a huge mistake…but since I can’t change your mind the least I can do is help you put the arrogant snot in his place, right?"

"Right," Harry said, glad more than ever that he and Ron had befriended the overly bookish girl now. "I, uh, I’d better be going…"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. He could see there were tears in her eyes.

"Be safe," she told him, throwing her arms around him and then quickly pecked him on the cheek before turning and racing back to her dorm.

Harry blinked, watching her go. Then, he sighed. "Girls," he said, shaking his head. He then turned to head for the portrait hole.

"And just where do you think you are going, young man?" The Pink Lady, the painting that hid the door to the Gryffindor Tower, asked him as he exited.

"None of your business," he told her, plainly. "Now, shush." With that, he quickly hurried down the corridors.

He knew that Filch, the school’s caretaker, and his feline familiar—Mrs. Norris—just loved catching students out of bed.

He intended to avoid both of them at all costs.

He also had heard that Snape also patrolled the halls sometimes, eager to dock points and give detentions.

Harry definitely did not want to have to explain himself to the Potions Master.

Making it to the entrance without being seen, he ducked behind a statue to wait for Malfoy.

He was rather surprised—as he was almost certain Malfoy would try and weasel out of it or at least bring his thugs with him—when the blonde haired Slytherin showed up on time and alone.

He stepped out where he could see him. "You ready, Malfoy?" he asked him, scowling.

"To wipe the floor with you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Always!"

"We’ll see about that," Harry growled, though he kept his temper in line.

If he could use Malfoy’s pride against him, then he was certain Malfoy would try and use every dirty trick he knew against him, as well.

Making certain the coast was clear, and that Peeves the poltergeist was nowhere around, the two eleven year olds made their way out of the castle and headed for the Forbidden Forest.

They stopped right at the edge of it. The Forest looked spooky during the day, but at night it looked down right…well, forbidding!

"H-How far do you think we should going before we duel?" Malfoy asked him, obviously trying to hide the quiver in his voice.

Harry shrugged. "Not too far," he said, "but far enough we can’t be seen from the castle."

Malfoy nodded, and the two boys entered the forest. They walked about a hundred yards in or so before they stopped.

"Okay," Harry said, "how do you want to do this?"

Malfoy frowned at him. "What do you mean?" he asked him, giving him a puzzled look.

"Well, I don’t really know how duels are done here," Harry said, "but Muggles generally start back to back, walk ten paces away from each other, spin, and then let each other have it."

Malfoy nodded. "Sounds about right to me," he said, "but not tricks, Potter!"

"If anybody has to worry about somebody cheating, Malfoy," Harry told him, turning his back to the other boy. "It’s me. Now shut up and let’s do this."

Malfoy nodded and turned around.

Drawing their wands, they began walking away from each other, counting as they went.

When they reached ten, they spun, and leveled their wands at each other—

However, before either one could speak an incantation a loud cry sounded in the quiet night…causing both to jump.

"W-What was that?" Malfoy stammered, wide-eyed. He was looking around frantically, trying to find any sign of what had made the noise.

"It was probably just a bear or something," Harry said, shrugging. "C’mon, let’s do this." He raised his wand…

Then, the cry sounded again.

"There are no bears in this forest, Potter!" Malfoy growled at him. "It’s a magic forest. Every creature in here is in some way magical—don’t you know anything?!"

Harry bristled at that. "I know you’re the world’s biggest arse-hole," he muttered under his breath.

The cry sounded a third time, and this time it actually sounded like it was pretty close by.

The duel forgotten for a moment, Harry frowned.

"Do you think an animal is hurt or something?" he asked, also forgetting for a moment who he was speaking to.

"I, uh, I guess it could be," Malfoy said, hesitantly. "S-Sure sounds like it…"

"C’mon," Harry said, "let’s go see."

Malfoy stared at him like he was crazy. He even said as much.

"Are you mental?" he growled at him. "It also sounds dangerous, you idiot!"

Harry smirked.

"All right, then," he told him. "Since I know snakes don’t have backbones, I guess I’ll have to go by myself."

Malfoy gritted his teeth and growled something nasty sounding under his breathe.

"Nobody accuses a Malfoy of being a coward, Potter!" he told him, fiercely. "Let’s go, but after we see what it is—we’re finishing our duel!"

"Agreed," Harry told him, smiling. "Now, c’mon…" With that, the two boys went even deeper into the forest.

Follow the sounds of the shrill cries, they found themselves on the edge of a moonlit clearing and in the center of that clearing…

Was the most monstrous sight either boy had ever seen.

For lying on the ground was what appeared to be a very much alive pure white unicorn, and beside it—drinking its silvery blood!—was a draped figure in a dark hooded cloak.

Harry and Draco watched in stunned disbelief as whatever it was bent down to drink from a wound on the unicorn’s neck.

The sight was too much for the blonde haired Slytherin-who promptly began spewing the contents of his stomach onto the ground beside him.

"Shhh!" Harry hissed at him. "He’ll hear you!"

Draco finished retching, wiped his mouth, and then gave him a scathing look.

He didn’t say anything, however. He merely punched Harry in the shoulder.

Unfortunately, this pushed Harry forward—causing his foot to land on a branch and snap it.

The sound echoed across the clearing; rather loudly, in fact.

The dark clad figure reared up, staring straight at where the two boys were standing.

Every instinct in his body screaming for him to run, Harry found that his feet were glued to the ground.

Apparently, neither could Draco—as the blonde haired boy did not move, either.

As the creature, or whatever the hell it was, drew closer, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead—right where his scar was.

Crying out, he grabbed his head as a searing pain shot through it.

Unable to stay up right, his knees buckled out from under him and he fell forward onto the ground—moaning in agony!

The, apparently, was the final straw for Draco…as he promptly fainted into a dead heap beside Harry.

Despite the pain, Harry held his wand—albeit shakily—and tried to muster up the will to cast a spell…

Unfortunately, the pain was too intense and he found his fingers growing numb.

His wand slipped from his grasp and landed in the dirt in front of him.

Somebody, he thought silently, please…HELP!

Glancing up, he saw that the black clad figure still approached and he couldn’t be sure but it seemed to be almost…hissing.

Harry swallowed, certain that this was it. His Hogwarts career—make that his life—was over before it even really got going…

Just then, however, a rather strange sound reached his ears—it was the sound of hooves.

The hooves sounded as if they were coming from behind him, and they were getting closer.

Suddenly, a large shape vaulted over him and Draco to land between them and the dark clad figure.

Harry glanced up and his green eyes widened in utter shock.

Standing there, the moonlight shining down upon it, was a stag—a large, black stag!

It was perhaps the largest buck he’d ever seen with glistening black fur from its head down to its tail.

It antlers were enormous—he managed to count twelve points—as was the rest of it.

It stood there for a moment, pawing at the ground, but then it reared up—kicking out with its front legs.

The pronged-hooves looked razor sharp and they also glistened in the moonlight.

It continued to rear up, advancing on the dark clad figure—that had halted in his tracks when the stag appeared.

As the stag advanced upon it, the dark clad figure began to back away—as if it were afraid of the large buck.

When the stag was only a few feet way, well within striking distance with either its hooves or its antlers, the dark clad figure turned tail and raced across the clearing and deeper into the forest.

Harry felt the pain in his forehead start to subside, though his scar still felt like it was on fire.

"Ahh," he groaned, sitting up. He felt queasy and then turned to his left and heaved up the few contents of his stomach.

The black stag, after watching the dark clad figure retreat into the trees, turned and began making his way towards him.

Harry blinked, as his vision seemed to blur a moment—was his head hurting that badly?—or maybe it was the stag that blurred, but at any rate once it cleared he found that the large black beast was gone.

In his place was…a very, very angry looking Professor Severus Snape!

Harry closed his eyes and groaned.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Severus was beyond angry—he was livid!

Having followed that imbecile Quirrel out of the castle and into the forest—to try and determine just what the man was up to—the last thing he had expected to find was a pair of eleven year olds.

He glared down at Harry and the still unconscious Draco, narrowing his eyes at them.

He knelt down beside them. "Are you injured, Potter?" he asked the boy, quickly.

Harry swallowed, hard. He knew he was in very big trouble.

Good, Severus thought. He should be afraid…very afraid!

"N-No, Sir," Harry answered him. "M-My head hurts a little bit, b-but I’m okay."  

Humph, Severus grunted to himself, I’d be more concerned about your other end right now if I were you, boy!

This was the last straw—the one that broke the camels back, as they say.

This time, Potter would get the punishment he deserved…and he would be the one to dole it out.

Not wanting to remain in the forest a moment longer, he scooped his still unconscious nephew into his arms and stood up.

"Follow me, Potter," he growled at Harry, sternly, "and do not even think of lagging behind!"

"Y-Yes, Sir," Harry said, bending down to pick up his wand from the ground.

Severus nodded, lifting Draco a little bit higher and cradling the boy’s head against his chest.

He couldn’t quite help but chuckle at the state his nephew was in…though he could definitely sympathize with it.

Lucius would die of heart failure if he knew his son had actually fainted when faced with a Dark entity, he thought to himself.

He was half tempted to tell him about it, just to see the look on his sadistic brother’s face—but then, Draco would be the one to suffer for it and he did not want that to happen.

Oh well, he thought with a sigh. Of course, Draco may wish his father had killed him by the time I’m through with him…

Leading the way back up to the castle, he headed immediately for the dungeons.

Harry did not even question or argue, but merely followed with his head down.

So, Severus thought, the little monster is feeling guilty, eh? He’s going to be feeling a lot worse very soon.

Going to his quarters, he quickly spoke the password and turned to Harry.

"Come, Mr. Potter," he growled at him, gently shoving him through the doorway. "You have much to answer for!"

His living quarters were very cozy—at least, he found them so.

The furniture, consisting of a sofa and two high backed armchairs, were made of black leather with silver accents.

The carpet, a rich plush Turkish-style, was a brilliant emerald green with black border around the edges of it.

The end tables (one on either end of the sofa and one out beside each high-backed chair) with black wrought-iron lamps attached to them was made of black ebony oak…as was the desk that sat in the far corner of the room and the six bookcases that stretched, three on either side, out from the black ebony mantled fireplace.

Flicking his wand, Severus said, "Incendio!" A fire burst to life in the fireplace, creating a soft glow in the darkened room.

He snapped his fingers and the lamps came on automatically.

"Sit in that armchair, Potter," he instructed the young Gryffindor, "and do not move so much as a muscle!"

Harry obeyed, sitting in the armchair that was to the right of the fireplace.

Severus lowered Draco onto the sofa and then turned to head through the doorway that was opposite the entrance.

This led to a hallway that consisted of four rooms—his bedroom, his study, his private potions’ lab, and extra guest room.

It was to the potions lab he went, retrieved a vial, and then returned to the sitting room.

"Is your head still hurting?" he asked Harry, curiously.

Harry swallowed, but nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir," he told him, "but it’s not too bad. I promise."

Severus resised rolling his eyes. Why did little boys always try to put on brave front?

Probably the same reason grown men do, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own whispered in his mind snidely. Oh, shut up! Who asked you?

"Here," Severus said, out loud, to Harry. He handed him the vial he’d retrieved.

Harry took it, looking at the contents with an apprehensive stare. "W-What is it?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Its poison, Potter," Severus snorted, rolling his eyes, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "I dragged you all the way down here only to murder you!"

Harry snickered at that, but continued to stare at the vial suspiciously.

Severus sighed. "It’s a Pain-Relieving Potion," he told him. "It’ll take the rest of your headache away. Now, drink it!"

This last was a command—plain and simple—and woe the stubborn brat if he dared to disobey!

Harry sighed, but then drank the potion. "Yuck," he said, making a face. "It tastes like dirty socks!"

Severus smirked. "My, however did you guess the most important ingredient," he told him, sarcastically.

Harry gave him a dirty look and muttered something under his breath.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the dark haired boy. "What was that?" he asked him, sternly.

Harry winced. "Uh, n-nothing," he told him, hurriedly. "S-Sir…"

"That’s what I thought," Severus said, turning to Draco. "Agaumenti!"

A small jet of water flew from the tip of his wand to hit the boy in the face.

Draco sprang up, muttered and cursing.

This caused Harry to erupt in a giggling fit, which he quickly stopped when he [Severus] turned a cold stare upon him.

Draco blinked, glancing around. He glanced up at him, his eyes wide. "U-Uncle Sev?" he asked, confused.

"Uncle?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Uh, what happened?" Draco asked, hesitantly.

Severus raised himself to his full height, towering over both boys.

"What happened is that I found a pair of eleven year olds out of the castle, in the Forbidden Forest, at midnight!" he growled at the two of them, through gritted teeth. "Care to enlighten me as to why you both were not in your beds—where you belong!"

"Um, well, you see," Draco began, glancing at Harry for support.

"We were just," Harry started to say. "I mean, we can explain….it’s just…" He floundered, and then quickly shut his mouth.

Severus narrowed his eyes at his nephew.

"I want the truth, Draco Lucius Malfoy," he growled, sternly, "and I want it right now!"

Draco cringed. He knew better than to ignore that tone. He sighed, looking down at the carpet.

"We were having a duel," he confessed, but then quickly looked up. "But it was all Potter’s idea!"

Severus snorted at this, and Harry sent the boy a murderous look.

"That’s not true!" the dark haired Gryffindor sprang up, outraged. "He started it by insulting my mum!"

Severus threw Draco a scathing look, but then focused on Lily’s son.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," he growled, angrily. While you still can, he added silently to himself.

Harry sat, but he continued to glare daggers at Draco—who glared back. Severus glared daggers at them both.

"Do you have any idea how many school rules you both have broken tonight?" he asked them, sternly. "Being out of bed after curfew—is forbidden! Being in the Forbidden Forest—is forbidden! Dueling—is forbidden!"

"We didn’t actually do it!" Draco spoke up, quickly, but then shrank back at his imposing stare.

"What?" he asked, curiously.

"T-The duel," his nephew explained. "W-We never actually did it. We were going to, b-but then we heard t-that thing and decided to go looking for it!"

Severus’ eyes practically blazed at that.

"You went looking for it!" he hollered, incensed. "And just whose bright idea was that…or do I even need to ask?"

He spun, glancing pointedly at Harry, who quickly averted his gaze.

"I see," Severus said, quietly. His nostrils flared.

Oh yes, Mr. Potter, he thought, your backside and my hand will most definitely be getting acquainted tonight!

Silently fuming, he turned to the mantle and reached for some Floo powder.

Tossing it in, he growled, "Slytherin Common Room!"

The flames turned green and rose up, forming a doorway. He pointed at Draco.

"You are to go to your room, get yourself ready for bed, and be waiting for me when I arrive shortly," he ordered him, sternly. "And Merlin help you, Mr. Malfoy, if you aren’t there when I get there! Now, move!"

Draco, his blue eyes wide, dashed off the sofa and through the magical doorway.

The moment he was through it, Severus waved his wand and he flames returned to normal. He sighed.

"Figures," he heard Harry mutter, sourly. "Malfoy gets off scot free, as usual!"

Severus spun around, glaring ominously at the small dark haired boy.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," he told him, smirking silkily. "Mr. Malfoy will be receiving the exact same punishment as you."

Harry glared up at him. "Then, why’d you let him go?" he asked, only a little petulantly.

"Because I am not in the habit of disciplining students in front of each other," he informed him, going over and removing his black robes and hanging them up.

Rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he went and sat down in the chair opposite the boy.

"You seem to think you are above the rules, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, sternly, "and that—I am here to inform you—is most certainly not true."

"That’s not true!" Harry told him, angrily. "It’s Malfoy who prances around like he owns the place!"

"Yes, I am well aware of Mr. Malfoy’s short comings," Severus told him, firmly. "It is you, however, we are discussing at this moment."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Sir," he said, poutily. "It won’t matter what I say anyway…"

Severus’ eyes blazed anew at his petulance.

"Dammit, boy!" he growled, smacking the arm chair he sat in and causing the darked hair youth to jump. "Three times! Three times you have needlessly put yourself in harm’s way, Mr. Potter, and two of those times you managed to get out by the skin of your teeth. But not this time! This time, if I had not intervened, you and Draco would be dead now! Do you realize that?!"

Harry’s eyes widened at that. "Then what I saw was real?" he asked him, curiously. "You were the black stag?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," Severus growled at him. "I—like Professor McGonagall—am an Animagus…but that is besides the point! You delibertly put yourself and another in harm’s way—not to mention breaking countless school rules in the process—and this time you will not escape punishment!"

Harry swallowed. "W-What are you going to do?" he asked, worriedly. "H-Have me expelled?"

"While what you did tonight certainly warrants it," Severus told him. "No, I’m not. But neither am I going to do as Professor McGonagall did and pat you on the head and give you points. This time, Mr. Potter, there were no heroic—if completely insane—escapades …only utter recklessness and stupidity!"

Harry hung his head. "Y-Yes, Sir," he said, quietly.

Severus nodded, glad to see the boy was at least accepting responsibility for his action, he straightened up.

"Come here, Harry James," he said, beckoning him with his hand.

"W-Why, Sir?" Harry asked, uncertainly.

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"When I give an order, Mr. Potter," he told him, firmly. "It is to be obeyed—not questioned! Get over here this instant!"

Harry obeyed, getting up and crossing over to him. He was more than a little surprised, however, when he found himself over his knee.

"P-Professor!" he hollered, glancing back at him. "W-What are you doing?!"

"Giving you your well-earned punishment, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, bluntly.

"B-But you can’t!" Harry wailed, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

"I assure, Mr. Potter, I can," Severus told him, raising his hand back, "and if you do not wish to lose the scant protection of your pants you will cease that squirming immediately!"

Harry stilled instantly, wincing as the first smack landed hard in the center of his bottom. He bit his lip, as another swat landed.

Severus spanked Harry the same as he did Draco—keeping the swats steady and even, leaving no trace of the small backside untouched.

Like Draco, Harry began to sniff by the tenth smack. He was tearing up by the fifteenth smack. By the twentieth, he was unable to hold the tears back.

Severus lifted the boy off his lap and produced a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Blow your nose, Mr. Potter," he instructed the boy, gently yet firmly.

Harry obeyed, but then reached back to rub his stinging bottom.

"Was that your first spanking, Harry?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"Y-Yes, Sir," Harry admitted, blushing red with embarrassment. "Um…a-aren’t I too old for that kinda thing, though?"

Severus grinned. "Do you know when was the last time I received a spanking, Mr. Potter?" he asked him, curiously.

Harry, of course, shook his head. "No, Sir," he told him, blushing again at such a thought.

"I was seventeen years old," Severus told him, matter-of-factly. "And do you know who doled out that punishment, Harry?"

Again, the boy shook his head.

"It was Professor Dumbledore," Severus told him, wincing at that particular memory.

Harry’s eyes widened at that. "No way!" he exclaimed, disbelieving.

"Oh, yes," Severus told him, smirking. "So you see? You are most definitely not too old…and being here at school does not change things, either."

Harry nodded, rubbing some more. "Uh, Sir, can I ask you something?"

"I don’t know, Harry," Severus told him, smirking wickedly. "Can you?"

Harry gave him a dirty look at that, causing him to chuckle. "May I ask you something, then?"

Severus nodded.

"You’re always staring at me," Harry said, looking him squarely in the face. "In the Great Hall, in the corridors, in class…but what I don’t get is why? And tonight…here was your chance to get rid of me and you didn’t take it?"

"What do you mean by ‘get rid’ of you?" Severus asked him, curiously.

"Well, you seem like you hate me, Sir," Harry told him, "and then other times its…well, its almost like you care what happens to me. Like tonight…you saved me from whatever that was and you could have took me to Professor Dumbledore but instead you…uh…well."

"Spanked you like the errant child you are, Mr. Potter," Severus finished for him, smirking.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, blushing again. "But…why?"

Severus sighed. He should have been expecting these questions.

"First and foremost, Harry, I do not hate you," he told him, firmly. "I never have and never will. Now, your recklessness and cheek does sometimes—a lot of the time—aggravate me and I strongly disapprove of you breaking the school rules as you did tonight. You’re a student, just like everybody else."

"I know that, Sir," Harry told him, "but it seems almost…personal or something…for you…about me, I mean."

"It is personal for me, Harry," Severus told him, quietly. "Your mother and I were once very…close…and as such I promised her that I would look out for you in the event that something happened to her."

"You knew my mum?" Harry asked, surprised. "Really?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, really, we were neighbors as children and best friends during our Hogwarts years," he told him, quietly.

"I-Is that who I remind you?" Harry asked, curiously. "My mum…"

Severus smiled. It seemed the boy was more perceptive than he gave him credit for.

"Yes," he told him. "You have her eyes, you know, and her stubbornness."

"Really, I do?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Yes," Severus told him. "Unfortunately, you also inherited your father’s reckless streak and the two in one body is not a very good combination."

"Oh," Harry said, quietly. "Sir, will tell me some more about my mum. Please? I don’t anything about her, really."

Severus nodded. "I shall," he told him, standing up, "but it late and you have class tomorrow."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Sir," he said, biting his lip in disappointment.

Severus reached out and lifted his chin so that he was looking him in the eye. "When I make a promise, Mr. Potter," he told him. "I keep it. We will discuss your mother—but not right this moment. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, quietly.

"Very well, then," he told him. Going to the mantle, he threw some Floo powder into the fire again. "Gryffindor Common Room!"

The flames turned green and the doorway appeared.

"You are to go straight to bed, Mr. Potter," Severus told the boy firmly, "and you had better not even think of being late for breakfast tomorrow or not show up for any of your classes. You will not appreciate the consequences if you do."

Harry’s eyes widened and he winced. "No, Sir," he told him. "I won’t be late."

"Very well, then," Severus told him. "Off you go, then." He motioned for him to step up the fire place.

Harry eyed the green flames apprehensively.

"They are harmless," Severus told him. "One more thing before you go, though."

"Yes, Sir?" Harry asked, looking up at him.

"You will be serving a detention with me tomorrow night at seven o’clock," he told him, firmly. "Understood?"

Harry’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, wearily.

Severus nodded. "Go then," he told him, sending him through the doorway with a swat to his pants.

Once the boy was through, he closed the doorway and sighed.

"Lily," he spoke to his beloved. "That boy is going to be the death of me…him and Draco."

And speaking of Draco…

His nostils flaring angrily again, he opened the portal to the Slytherin common room and strolled through.

He had one more ‘lesson’ to dole out tonight.

And then, finally, he could go to bed.

SSSSSSSSS

On the fifth floor of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies, in room number seven, the red haired woman named Lily continued to sleep.

No one was around, however, when her head tilted to the left and a single word escaped her lips in a breathless whisper.